


The Boy Who Cried Wolf

by madnessiseverything



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Songfic, Wolves, based on a german song, dont ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:57:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessiseverything/pseuds/madnessiseverything
Summary: How they knew the wolves would come for them they could not quite explain. But they knew.or the one where Ezekiel cries wolf, but nobody believes a thief.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea how this happened. i had this song stuck in my head and this is what came out.   
> thanks to [sanne](http://outruneverything.tumblr.com/) and [bri](http://briishere.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing and awesome comments.

Verse One   
  
He had heard it, heard them. He had listened to their song of terror and had run, run so fast the world became a blur. Their melody had chased him each step.    
  
Now he stumbled into the village, voice raw as he yelled for anyone to listen. Doors opened, workers turned away from their jobs to face the collapsing boy. Scoffs were heard as they recognized the fear-stricken face of the town’s resident thief. Nobody had seen him in a while, but they all knew he still reached into their pockets. Two missing fingers on each hand showed his image clearly enough.    
  
“Wolves,” he gasped finally, hands pushing against the dusty ground. “I heard them, a pack.”    
  
“The forests are clean of wolves, boy,” an old man said from his wagon, sneer evident. “We purged it many years ago.”    
  
“But I heard them, I swear. They sang their old song, I can still hear it now!”    
  
“Who would we be to believe such scum as yourself?” The scratchy voice of the town’s butcher, her hair coarse and hands bloody as usual, made everyone speak up, a choir harmonizing to agree with her. “Your tongue forms lies, deceptions.”    
  
“You have to listen! They’re back, we need to arm ourselves, please!” His voice was full of desperation, eyes tearing up as he begged for someone to believe in his words. But the faces turned away, a few laughs filled the air as normalcy continued. As if his warning had never left his mouth.    
  
Anger settled in his throat, making itself known in the form of a scream building up. “Listen to me!” His voice cracked, fractured into tiny slivers of what it used to be as he was grabbed from behind and dragged through the dust.    
  
“Run off, thief,” a deep voice he recognized as one of the stable boys said. “Today we will let you go freely.” Rough hands pulled him up from the earth and gave him a harsh shove. “Do not test our patience any further.”    
  
“The wolves are howling!” The remaining strength behind his voice was withering, but he refused to give up. He faced the stoic stable boy, desperate to get someone, anyone on his side. “They are singing and they are going to kill us all!”    
  
“You heard Old John. There are no wolves in these woods.” The stable boy crossed his arms and nodded off into the distance. “Now leave. Before I decide otherwise.”    
  
Stumbling over his own limbs, the thief turned away. Tears of frustration burned in his eyes. There were wolves, he had heard their voices. How come the village was so deaf? Could they not hear the arriving storm?    
  
The wolves would come, they would see.    
  
xxx   
  
When they found him, he did not fight. He faced them with tear tracks drying on his cheeks and heaving breaths, determination hardening his features. But he did not fight.    
  
Their breath painted clouds into the darkness of the night, snarls and growls filling the air around him as his gaze locked with yellow eyes and bared teeth. He knew he would not escape again. He slowly sank to his knees, never losing eye contact with the beast in front of him. Teeth snapped near his face and he swallowed, a dry sob escaping. He smiled and closed his eyes to the angry animal.    
  
They pounced without another breath of hesitation. Teeth tore into his skin and he screamed, screamed as the scent of blood filled the air. Howls echoed off the rock reaching up towards the sky, a choir of victory.   
  
The people would see. He was right, _the wolves would come._ __   
  
xxx   
  
Verse Two   
  
Jacob heard the rushing steps before he saw their owner. He raised the shovel in his hand and stepped around the corner of the barn, reaching out to stop the running villager. “No!”    
  
Hands pushed at him and he stumbled back, finding the wide blown eyes of the village apothecary’s daughter. Her hands held a bundle of cloth, shaking as she gasped for air.    
  
“Jacob,” Cassandra whispered. Her voice cracked as she pushed the cloth into his hands.    
  
The shovel dropped to the ground as he noticed the red. “What is this?!”    
  
“I found it near the stream. These are his clothes, Jacob.”    
  
Jacob could feel his heart skip. “He was right,” he said slowly, noticing the ripped material, drenched in blood. He would recognize the pockets, sewn into sleeves and collar with expert hands, even in total darkness.    
  
“We have to tell someone! I can’t- they won’t believe me alone!” She brushed her hair aside, nails chipped and bloody from what Jacob knew to be the rocks along the stream. He hoped that was all it was.   
  
“They said there were no wolves,” Jacob voiced, disbelief clear. How could they be so ignorant?    
  
“I know this is the wolves’ work, I saw their prints in the dirt, heard their melody from far away. We have to warn them, please.” Cassandra looked at him pleadingly, her hands coming up to smooth over the cloth. Jacob nodded.    
  
“We will.”    
  
“No.” The two flinched, turning around at the known voice.    
  
“Mother,” Cassandra spoke quietly, afraid. “The wolves are back!”    
  
“You will tell no soul,” the apothecary hissed, hands raised to point at the cloth. “Those words are deadly, child.”    
  
“We have to warn the others,” Jacob insisted, ready to fight for a chance at saving his people, at warning them of the beasts. The apothecary narrowed her eyes at him and motioned at his throat, her hand snapping up in a straight line.    
  
Pain burned up inside his neck and Jacob coughed, stumbling against the barn.    
  
“Mother!”    
  
“Be quiet, Cassandra!” The apothecary moved towards her daughter, features turning soft. “We cannot speak of them, my dear child. Those that speak of the wolves will never escape them.” She stroked her fingers down Cassandra’s neck before quickly moving them away. “We will be safe.”    
  
Pain flared up, clouding Cassandra’s vision as silent tears traveled down her face. She gasped, desperately trying to call for her mother. No sound escaped her as she collapsed to the ground.    
  
“It is for the best,” she heard her mother, her footsteps moving away. “You will see.”    
  
The apothecary left the field, no second glance spared to the crumbled forms of the two young souls. They should never speak again.    
  
xxx   
  
Their hands shook as they stood where Cassandra had found the clothes. In the light the carnage was so much worse, blood painting grey stone and the fallen leaves. There was no corpse, nothing but skin seemed to be left.    
  
Nausea boiled in their stomachs. What had the beasts done to the thief, the boy with the carefree laugh?   
  
The villagers had not listened. How could they, after all their voices had been taken, ripped out. They could not make a sound. The drawings in the dirt were illegible, as if they had been cursed to not be understood in any way. As if the curse that had taken away their voices had taken everything else too. Cassandra knew her mother was smart enough to do so, to take away any communication if she thought it best.    
  
Now they stood where the one soul that could have stopped what would come had been torn to pieces. Had they only listened, had they only heeded his warning. They could have saved him, saved the village. Instead they stood there, watching the sun disappear. They refused to be faced with the beasts in their homes, where they were vulnerable.    
  
If they were to die this night, they would face the pack on their own terms.    
  
The darkness brought the howls of the beasts, sounding throughout the woods. Jacob looked at Cassandra, who stared into the forest with a frown on her face and her lips a tight line.    
  
How they knew the wolves would come for them they could not quite explain. But they knew.    
  
When yellow eyes blinked at them from the edge of the trees, Jacob stepped forward. Cassandra followed. 

**Author's Note:**

> the song is "Wölfe mitten im Mai", originally by Franz Josef Degenhardt. I found a [pretty awesome cover](https://youtu.be/sSkTM8vLWXo) done by Karachoo, if you wanna give it a listen.
> 
> come yell at me on [tumblr](http://madnessiseverything.tumblr.com/).


End file.
